What He Found
by CaffeinatedLoki
Summary: "Before I met the Doctor, I could hardly find anything to live for. But now, I've got something better- I've got something I would die for."


_Umm...I totally uploaded the wrong version of this. Haha. Here's a longer actually edited version of chapter one.  
&& again... reviews are appreciated, haters are not. Thanks for the great reviews I got so far! :)_

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For New Years, I made three resolutions.

1) Figure out what I want to do with my life.

2) Do a bit of traveling.

3) Run more.

Strangely enough, it only took me approximately four hours and thirty-four minutes to fulfill these resolutions.

It was nearly five in the morning- the streets were dark and rather empty. I was walking home, barefooted and freezing in my dress. Timmy had really pissed me off, so rather than spending the night, I decided to walk back to my apartment. I had remembered to bring a VitaminWater spiked with vodka, but I had completely forgotten my heels and my jacket.

After you storm out, you can't very well go back in and get your stuff. Kind of ruins the whole effect. So, yeah. With only the alcohol to keep me warm, walking the eight blocks back home felt like hell.

About halfway through the journey home, I paused to take a sip of my drink and started to light a cigarette.

And that's when I heard it- the pounding of sneakers on cement behind me, and a mechanical sort of voice screeching _"EXTERMINATE!"_I froze for just a moment and turned to see a man sprinting towards me. The streetlamps kind of drain his face of color, but I can see that he didn't look particularly happy. I wasn't really that thrilled to see this when all I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and forget that this night ever happened. Instead, I seemed to be in the middle of a scene out of some kind of cheap sci-fi movie.

"Might want to run!" he roared at me as he got closer.

The adrenaline chased the drunkeness from my mind. I had no idea what the hell was going on- I mean, there's some nutjob with a Scottish accent telling me to run for my life from an apparently violent R2D2.

What would you do?

I know what I did. I dropped my cigarette and took off after him, as the pissed off robot thingy started shooting off blue jets of light after us.

All I could think was, _damn, why didn't I grab my shoes?_"What the hell is that thing?" I yelled as I ran.

He glanced over his shoulder, his expression rather exasperated. "Save the Q and A for later- just run!"

The running was uneventful for a couple of blocks, until the broken bottle in the street. His Converses crunched right on along, but the shards cut into my skin. One particular piece of glass gashed the bottom of my foot open, and I fell over the concrete with a cry of pain.

For one second, I thought the stranger was just going to keep on running, and I was basically screwed. And that second was absolutely terrifying. I didn't really want to die alone on New Years in the middle of a street- and especially not by a jet of blue light, courtesy of Mr Pissed Off R2D2.

But he came back for me.

So I guess chivalry ain't dead after all.

He helped me to my feet, frowning at me. "Where are your shoes?"

I glared at him. "Obviously not on my feet."

He sighed, and pulled another pair of Converses from his pocket- he ignored the way I was gaping at him (who the _hell_ keeps shoes in their pocket- and, better yet, how do they fit in there?). He handed them to me, and I started putting them on- they were a little big, but shoes are shoes. "I'll take care of your foot when we get back to the TARDIS. Um- what's your name?"

"Blanche-"

_"EXTERMINATE!"_And another one joined the chase, shooting off a blue jet that barely missed my shoulder by inches. "WHAT AM I, A COCKROACH?" I screamed.

He seized my hand, and we started running again through the dark streets, chased by R2D2 and his evil twin.

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So that was really not fun. The whole running thing was pretty boring from there on, and he led me right to a blue box. "Is that a telephone booth?" I asked in total what the hell mode. "Are you calling the police?"

He stared at me. "First of all, it's a police box, not a _telephone booth_. And secondly, it's not really a telephone booth at all. We'll be safe in there."

He opened the door and strolled in. "Well, come on!" he called when he saw I wasn't follow.

I hessitated for just a second- but then R2D2 shrieked out _"EXTERMINATE!"_ And that kind of decided things for me. So I hurried inside, slamming the door shut behind me.

And that's when it got really weird. Because outside, it was just a box- a little, tiny _box_. But I was standing in the middle of a really big cavernous room- it looked almost like a command center. But there was no way that this fit into that box- the laws of physics surely didn't allow something like this to exist.

"Um- kind of bigger on the inside. Chameleon Circuit went bad, and I haven't figured out how to fix it yet. She's a TARDIS- Time and Relative Dimensions in Space."

"Oh, my God, have I gone mad?"

He studied me thoughtfully. "Well, that's a first. Normally they faint or get all freaked out."

"No! I'm drunk. I'm really, really drunk. I'm not here. I'm just dreaming or something, aren't I? Crazy man with a blue box that's bigger on the inside- of course. That's too insane to be real. You, sir-" I pointed at him. "You will be about as real as Bigfoot when I wake up."

He rolled his eyes. "You're not dreaming. Although I must admit, this would be an excellent dream."

"Okay. Let's say, hypothetically, I'm not dreaming. Who the hell are you, anyway?"

"I'm the Doctor."

I eyed him. "Doctor _who_?"

"No- just the Doctor, if you please."

"Right. So if we're going to go by job titles, I guess you can just call me coffee girl," I muttered. "Okay. Whatever. So, _Doctor_- what the hell were those things?"

"They're from another planet- they're called Daleks-"

"_Aliens? _You're really not helping your case of this not being a dream and all."

"What, you don't believe in aliens, then?"

"No. I believe in what I can see with my own two eyes. That's evidence. Not some crackpot's theories."

He grins. "Well, you saw them. And I technically fit into the alien category myself, so I suppose I'm further proof. What more do you need?"

I gaped at him. "How in the hell are you an alien? You have a Scottish accent! Pretty sure that's an Earth thing!"

He takes my hand and places it over his chest. "Feel that?" When I nod, he shifts my hand until I feel another heartbeat beneath my hand. "Two hearts," he says softly, releasing my hand.

And that kind of blew my whole no such thing as aliens thing out of the water. "Any more questions?" he asked, his tone kind.

I did have a lot more questions- they were practically flooding my brain. Instead, I decided on settling for what seemed to be the most important question at that moment. "What now?"

He just smiled back at me.


End file.
